Teenage Dreams
by Cooper-Gwen
Summary: 'Only sixteen and her dreams are as big as the goddamn Georgian sky.' / This is the life of Joanna McCoy.


Okay, so I have been _obsessed_ with Joanna McCoy stories lately, and the writing bug bit me, and wouldn't let go. This is going to be a multi-chaptered story, with random drabbles, and a few lengthier stories (spanning over 1-3 chapters). They'll all be centered around Jo and her family, focusing on her life and relationships.

Also, I just want to shout out to AllElbows, who writes the most amazing Jo fic _ever, _and you should all go read her stuff _right now_.

(I do not own Star Trek, Joanna McCoy, or any of the other characters in these stories)

* * *

><p>''<em>Only sixteen and her dreams are as big as the goddamn Georgian sky.''<em>

That's what Joanna's mother had said once, right after Jo had been bumped up to AP History, and had spent an entire hour dancing around and swearing she'd be off to San Francisco as soon as she graduated (which was looking like it might be a year early, if her grades and course load were any indication).

Jo lies on the roof, legs crossed, staring at the starry sky. She can make out a few spaceships, and name more than a few planets - one of the perks of being the daughter of a Starfleet officer is that she knows _space. _She took it upon her self to learn all that she could about the universe, and where her daddy would be. She learned the names of the planets, the stars, the constellations, everything. (Never let it be said that Joanna McCoy doesn't go_all out, _thank you very much.)

Tomorrow is the day her Summer Break _officially_ starts – two whole months on the Enterprise. Jo had bounced up and down with delight when her mother had informed her of this (with a sour, bitter expression on her face) and Jo had been packed for a week. The times spent on the Enterprise were the best of her life. Christmases, birthdays, and a few other Summer breaks (although Jo's mother usually did what she could to claim Jo for these).

Summer Break on the Enterprise means many things – _daddy and Uncle Jim, _the two most important people in her life. Uncle Jim's chicken Parmesan (you wouldn't think it just by looking at him, but Captain James T. Kirk was, in fact, an _excellent_ cook), and late nights spent talking about anything and everything with him, because he was just that kind of person. They would eat ice cream and he'd tickle her and her father would come in and grumble about _how he sure as hell hadn't signed up to be a babysitter, for god's sake, _which would just make Jo and Jim laugh harder. Uncle Jim had a soft spot for 20th century music, and when Jo had last investigated his padd, it was filled with Journey and obscure hair bands from the 1980's. Jo had grown up with that music since the age of six years old, and the songs were home, and late nights on the bridge, practicing Vulcan with Mr. Spock.

A car engine revs a few streets away, and Jo can hear drunken shouts and laughter. Some of her classmates, no doubt. Jo had never been part of the popular crowd in any of her years at school. Sure, she had _friends_, but they weren't _best_ friends. She liked them and hung out with them, but she had never bared her soul to any of them. They saw movies together, and they did homework together (which proved to be kind of a problem, as Jo was in all honor's classes while her few friends were all at a normal level). They liked drinking and celebrities and talked of moving to New York City one day. Not Jo - Jo was joining up with Starfleet as soon as it was legal. She was going to be out, among the stars, just like her father and uncle.

Her eyes are sliding shut now, and so she stands, letting out another enormous yawn, and pushing her dark hair behind her ears. Her window is to the right, and she slides silently down the edge of the roof until she reaches it, pushing herself inside quickly, and closing it behind her. She might not even be able to sleep; the anticipation for tomorrow is _killing_ her.

Jo changes quickly, sliding underneath her covers and switching her lamp off, flopping onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Tomorrow, she thinks, smiling happily into the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews make me write faster, everyone :)<strong>


End file.
